Epilogue Jade
Drekkan practically glows in the evening light. His scales have never looked so luminous, and I wonder if he’s been polishing them. He rocks slightly from foot to foot, glancing occasionally in my direction nervously.
Baby Dalox is stuffed full from his last meal, and when he sleeps, he sleeps hard. Drekkan positively dotes on him, and I’m pretty sure if he could breastfeed too, he would. The number of times over the last few days I’ve come into the bedroom to find the pair of them flaked out on the bed has been impressive and possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever encountered.
Plus, when Drekkan asked me if I was prepared to give our baby his brother’s name, the hesitancy in his voice, the look in his eyes—I told him I was honored he’d offered. So Dalox became Dalox, and it suits my little man to a tee.
“Ah, the human who tamed the Sarkarnii.” The mayor approaches me with a smile on his face. “And now he’s going to dance for you. A fitting end for our solstice celebrations.”
I check Drekkan again and see Qrow has captured his attention with something suitably Qrow-related.
“No thanks to you,” I reply. “I thought you agreed with Draco I was under your protection while on Kitchik. But instead you disable the one creature who was looking after me.”
The smile on the mayor’s face drops. “Drekkan was…a threat…” he says, stumbling over his words.
“Drekkan was never a threat. The rest of Kitchik knew that.” I wave my free hand around at the huge number of residents who have gathered. “Only you decided he needed to be collared.”
I approach the mayor who, to his credit, stands his ground. “You will never, ever do something like that to my mate again. Or I will make sure Draco and the Golden Orion know what you did.”
“I…I didn’t mean anything by it. I only wanted to protect the celebrations,” the mayor says.
“I know, and it’s the reason I’m not saying anything to Draco or my friends on the ship. The celebrations mean everything to Kitchik, and I’m pleased to be part of them.”
The mayor visibly relaxes. “Are we getting a visit from Draco at all?” he asks, with feigned nonchalance.
“Not today.” I sigh, thinking about the grainy cross-galaxy comm I had with Coral and the others who all squealed when they saw Dalox. “Not for a long time, I don’t think.”
Amber promised to let Draco know about Drekkan, as it is so important to the Sarkarnii to find their kin, but the distance between us means they won’t be able to make it back for the dance.
Because Drekkan wants to dance for me, a tradition I saw time and again in the Kirakos, something I thought I didn’t want for myself because I was prepared to do whatever it took to make my own way.
But now, it’s something I do want. I want it because Drekkan wants to do it, because it’s important to him. As I look at my sleeping baby, what I want is as important as what they want because ultimately it is all the same. We want to be safe, warm, fed, and loved. To deny any of these things is a snub to those who do not have them.
I denied them for far too long.
At the end of the aisle the Kitchik inhabitants have created in the market square, cleared of snow and hung with sparkling lights, some drums start up, thumping out a hypnotic rhythm. Milk-soaked Dalox stirs, but he doesn’t wake. All around me, the lights dim, save for those on Drekkan.
He is in the spotlight, where he deserves to be. His hips flick side to side and his tail lashes as he moves down, not hurried, his face a mask of concentration as he moves in time to the drums, every step measured and placed with precision. Any evidence of his injury is completely removed.
My mate is magnificent, handsome, powerful, and he belongs to me and to the baby in my arms. Drekkan is always going to be here for us.
The drum beat increases the closer he gets to me and the concentration has gone. Instead, it is replaced by the widest smile as his wings shift out and the inhabitants of Kitchik duck.
“Heartsfire,” he breathes as he reaches me. “You complete me. You are the stars in the sky and the wind under my wings. You are all I ever wanted, and you have given me my son. Will you take me into your heart and make me yours?”
I’m just about to speak when there is a commotion in the crowd. Drekkan snarls as he curls one wing protectively around Dalox and me, vicious claws sprouting from each hand, his body on edge as his gaze is fixed on a single point.
The point at which Draco shoulders his way into the aisle. He is immediately surrounded by his brothers and fellow warriors, all armed to the teeth.
“I was told there was to be a Sarkarnii dance,” Draco growls, all glower and black-gold scales. “Taking place without me. That will not do.”
“Who are you?” Drekkan returns the growl. “And what makes you believe you should be at my dance?”
“I am Draco, Commander of the Hundred Legions, Captain of the Golden Orion, and descendant of the High Bask. Ruler of the 4 th Quadrant of the Kirakos. This female is under my protection and that of my mate. I get to choose who dances for her.”
Drekkan looks the least impressed I’ve ever seen, glaring at Draco and the other Sarkarnii as he slowly pushes me and Dalox behind him. The little baby chooses this moment to hiccup and release a wail of surprise. The growl which follows from Drekkan is superior to any I’ve heard before.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Draco!” A female human voice cuts through the tension and the crowd. “You’re not supposed to be scaring them, you’re supposed to be welcoming them.”
Amber appears by his side, glaring up at the massive male who looks suitably chastened.
“Amber? I thought you couldn’t make it,” I say, pushing past a confused Drekkan to embrace my friend.
“Like we could keep Opal away.” She chuckles, and I’m surrounded by all my friends, all chattering at once, all cooing over Dalox, who seems to have given up on the idea he wants to grizzle and instead is enjoying the attention.
“This is Drekkan.” I finally manage to introduce my mate who is glaring daggers at everyone.
“Drekkan?” Draxx steps forward, the massive green Sarkarnii cocking his head on one side. “Colonel Drekkan of the 8 th Legion?”
I look up at Drekkan. His face goes from severe anger to…
“General Draxx?” Drekkan thumps his arm over his chest and bows as Draxx throws an arm around Drekkan’s shoulders.
“The very same, warrior,” he says.
Slowly, ever so slowly, a smile creeps over Drekkan’s face as he looks around at all the Sarkarnii, more Sarkarnii than Kitchik have seen in a long time, I suspect, given the gaping looks of the inhabitants.
“You survived? You all survived?” Drekkan’s voice is hoarse.
“Many Sarkarnii survived what happened on Kaeh-Leks, warrior,” Draco intones. “And we intend finding them all, once you’ve completed your dance for your mate.”
“If you think I, my mate, or my young are leaving Kitchik, you are wrong, Commander Draco.” Drekkan slides an arm around my waist and looks down at me with love sparkling from every scale. “This is our home.”
“Yes.” I return his gaze, as Dalox gurgles between us. “Yes, it is.”
I hope you enjoyed this Sarkarnii Christmas story. The Sarkarnii will return in Warlords of the Sarkarnii.